“There will be further orders. Stay put.”
They entered the manor. Hyland’s guards were led underground, and then Hyland himself and his remaining entourage, including Col and Myuri, were brought upstairs. Their party was divided again as they walked down the halls, but luckily, Col was placed in the same room as Myuri. He was unsure if it was intentional, but Myuri had been calling him “Brother” loud enough for the soldiers to hear. That was probably why.
At any rate, the cautionary rope restraints were removed from their wrists, and they were pushed into a room that resembled the lodging at a simple inn. There were no decorations—just a bed, desk, and chair. It was clearly anticlimactic for Myuri. Perhaps she imagined they would be put into a leaky, rat-infested, stone dungeon.
“It seems like they’re treating us as people of a certain standing.”
Col rubbed his now unbound wrists and opened the window, where he discovered a grid of metal bars, similar to the ones commonly found on prison cells. In the distance, he could see tall buildings and the church’s bell tower. It all seemed so far away, not because the sun had set and it was difficult to judge distance in the darkness, but because he was mentally exhausted. He tried to imagine the townspeople rising up and flooding the church to save them after learning about the arrest, but Col did not have it in him.
He tried to shake the bars in the window, but they did not so much as wiggle. The entrance, too, was unusual. The door was a wood lattice fixed with sturdy metal hinges. Maybe it was a measure to prevent surprise attacks on anyone opening the door from the outside, allowing visual confirmation that the prisoners inside were not planning anything suspicious.
He looked at the wall to see if there were any openings and noticed that words had been scribbled all over the surface. “Glory to our banner!” “O spirits of great heroes, praise your justice,” “Shoulda killed that bastard subordinate when I had the chance”—they were the scrawling of the fairly influential people thrown in here long ago.
“Those scribes were traitors,” Myuri said while she rubbed her wrists.
“I’m sorry I didn’t heed your warnings.”
“I told you so…is what I want to say, but what blondie said was true. There’s nothing we can do.”
It just so happened that Col had been targeted.
“But what are we going to do now, Brother?” she asked in a lowered voice, sounding anxious but somehow theatrical at the same time. Perhaps Myuri was recalling the smattering of adventure stories she had heard so many times.
“Though the pope has sanctioned us as heretics, I do not think we will be beheaded immediately. I think inquisitors will hold an examination first.”
“Oh, I know about that. That’s when they burn witches at the stake, right?”
She must have heard that from a guest at the bathhouse.
“They won’t do anything barbaric that would start widespread rumors. Especially since Heir Hyland is here.”
Before their conversation, after calmly thinking about it, Col still could not really believe the pope’s sanction. The designation of “heretic” normally had the impression of something grander, a compelling force that could ravage entire regions, unbending in the face of the Church’s negotiations and persuasions, fueling outrage until it was finally exhausted. Looking back on history, the recognition and subjugation of heresy was often used as an excuse to suppress revolting peasants. In that respect, many lords must have been carefully watching the development of this commotion, especially since the Kingdom of Winfiel and the pope had been negotiating for three years already. Any rash moves were just as likely to come back and haunt the pope.
Hyland had come to the town of Atiph as a representative of the kingdom, so to deem him a heretic and arrest him was hardly any different from a declaration of war on the Kingdom of Winfiel.
Therefore, Col could not discount the possibility that it was actually a terrifyingly dangerous farce planned by the archbishop.
“But at any rate, if we don’t resolve this situation and if the papal officer was genuine, then Heir Hyland’s plans will go to dust. Oh God…”
Col paced around the room, wondering if there was anything they could do; Myuri spoke up from her spot on the bed, exasperated.
“Brother, shouldn’t we worry about ourselves before other people?”
“Of course, but…”
“Then, how are we going to get out? Under the cover of night? Or knocking out all the guards?”
Had Myuri’s ears and tail been out, they would have been twitching in excitement. Though it might have also been a sign of her anxiety, it was more likely that she was busy mixing reality and fiction after having read too many adventure stories when they lived at the bathhouse.
On the other hand, it was true that they had to do something. The most trustworthy connection they could rely on at the moment was their relationship with the Debau Company. As Col thought about how to get a hold of them, he could hear the sound of a latticed door opening somewhere in the connecting hallway. The echoes of many footsteps drew closer. Perhaps they were bringing someone out from another room.
Col held his breath and looked out onto the hallway, where he saw Hyland surrounded on all sides by soldiers. His hands were still tied in front of him, and the sight was painful.
“Mm? Oh, wait a second.”
Hyland noticed the two of them and called out to the guards.
Then, they all stopped, feigning ignorance as they stepped back.
“We have lots of allies. It’s too early to give up.”
He smiled at them through the lattice. But that smile quickly disappeared.
“Sorry for getting you swept up in all this.”
“Not at all. But what is going on? I cannot bring myself to believe this accusation of heresy is real. Is this all a show planned by the archbishop?”
“I want to believe that, too, but according to the soldiers, it’s real. A boat arrived at the port just before we took our break, and the city council was gathered at a moment’s notice. And what we heard was the resulting judgment. The archbishop probably knew beforehand that the papal officer was on the way with the sanction. That was why he was wasting so much time.”
“B-but arresting you means that the pope…”
“I realized that as well. It looks like he’s planning to go to war with my country. Next, I will likely be interrogated to reveal all the allies I’ve recruited here on the mainland.”
Col stared blankly in response, and Hyland closed his eyes. Rather than being afraid of torture, it seemed like he was struggling with shame, enduring the torments of his conscience—or so Col imagined.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you.”
When Hyland finished speaking, he looked straight at Col. Perhaps it was dignity as a noble or perhaps just his personality.
“Our ultimate goal is to create a new church.”
For the briefest of moments, Col could not believe it. The Kingdom of Winfiel had been lacking proper religious activity for three years. How many people had been praying for God’s intercession during that time?
Then, after hearing just that one sentence, Col understood the reason for the severity of the pope’s response. If he and the rest of the Church allowed a country as large as the Kingdom of Winfiel to create its own church, then it was not difficult to imagine that others would soon follow suit.
For the pope, there was no other choice but to strike first.
“That was somehow leaked to the pope. But luckily for us, he struck the first blow, so we now have an excellent reason to fight back.”
After Hyland spoke, he slowly dropped to one knee, bowing his head.
“I am sincerely sorry for not telling you about this. But I had expected we would not be making it public for a while. The pope dispatched a number of cardinals who are currently in the kingdom. I did not think that he would make his move while they were still there. Or perhaps he took advantage of the moment while we had our guard down…”
Like a spider, the plan had scuttled around and caught them in its web.
“And since we did not know how much you agreed with our ideas, I couldn’t tell you. I can do nothing but extend my apologies for how it ended up seeming like we deceived you.”
The bathhouse master and former merchant Lawrence would say that it cost nothing to bow humbly and that doing so as much as possible was the pride of a merchant. Hyland, however, came from the blood of royalty. It was no small thing for such a person to lower his head.
“Heir Hyland, please stop. I am aware, to an extent, how dangerous it is. But we must think of a way to get out of this situation.”
Hyland still kept his head down and finally raised it after a while. “I have a request to ask of you in regards to that.”
“A request?”
“Yes. But it is something our young miss will most certainly not fancy this time.”
Col looked away from Hyland’s tired smile, and Myuri was glaring at him with such ferocity. It was the same glare she gave to the girl that invited him into that inn.
Myuri was consistent in her distrust of Hyland. She was convinced the noble was hiding something.
That ended up being true, but when Col considered Hyland’s position, he understood why Hyland had acted that way. In the end, Col was nothing but a working boy in the baths of Nyohhira. He was not someone who could be easily trusted with secrets.
“There is something I must confirm beforehand. The story I told you in Nyohhira has already changed. What we do next will not be something that the pope simply does not care for. To cooperate with me is to join with the Kingdom of Winfiel. You understand what that means, correct?”
They would no longer be mere critics of the pope’s actions but directly opposing the pope’s authority itself.
The pope was the voice of God on earth, and the Church that he ruled over was an institution meant to spread and teach the fundamentals of righteousness to the people of the world. Within that organization, contradictions, corruption, and abuse were rampant. And yet people still frequently went to church, offered donations, and respected their priests. That had continued uninterrupted for over a thousand years.
Such an unbending world continued to expand, and the past decades bore witness to bloody conflict with the pagans in the northlands. Though the fight petered out indecisively, the war cooled down in a way that could be considered a victory for the Church.
During that period, a number of countries were destroyed, and rulers had been driven from their lands.
The Kingdom of Winfiel wanted to battle against such a gigantic organization.
“It will be dangerous, and probably a long, intense fight. But I want you to imagine.”
“Ima…gine…?”
“Yes. With our own hands, we can create a new church—a church where the presiding priests teach from a scripture translated into the common language for all to read. Injustice and abuse will largely decrease. We can sweep away the things that we pretended not to see and things we could do nothing about. That is why I did not call on the high-ranking clergy at the bathhouse, sitting in the baths like overly boiled turnips, but you. We want to create a new world. A world without deception or lies.”
Other people would question if that was actually possible.
However, what those people should have done was read the scripture. The original prophets of their religion had thrived in pagan lands filled with even more widespread and twisted teachings than what the current Church represented.
“And it is not just an ideal. We have a fair chance of winning this fight.”
Hyland glanced up and down the hall, then drew closer to the latticed door and lowered his voice even more.
“Our kingdom is an island. It is not easy to send a large army even to the northlands, which is on the mainland. More importantly, we have plentiful fishing grounds and shipbuilding skills. The pope played his hand so quickly because he was afraid we would manage to complete our preparations.”
Just by looking at the number of fish brought to Atiph’s port town, Col understood what that meant. The fish caught in the northern seas reached dinner tables far inland, and there was still much left over. Hyland was saying they were not cornered in a fight where they had no chance of winning, and those words were persuasive.
All the conditions had been met.
The only thing left to do was stand up.
“Col, I want your skills,” Hyland said.
“After, I will most absolutely repay you. There should be more than enough room to find a seat for you in the new Church.”
Hyland meant they would accommodate Col during the creation of the new Church. The young man could not even force himself to say that he did not want that. To stand in the pastoral cornerstone would mean being able to deliver salvation to many people.
But talk about the new Church that Hyland and the Kingdom of Winfiel would create was much more enthralling than that. If it were to come to fruition, then a great deal of the masses would become able to receive the true teachings of God.
However, there was still one thing that bothered him.
“Heir Hyland, I want to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
This kind of question was, in a sense, betraying Hyland.
However, it was not that simple to change a point of view of something that had continued for so long.
“Is the purpose of this new Church to overthrow the existing Church?”
While there were bad aspects to the Church, there were also some good. Col’s wish was not to smash it into millions of pieces but to straighten the warped pillars.
“I don’t want to do that. If we create a new church, this Church may change their ideas. As it stands, I think it may stay the way it is now for all of eternity.”
It was not anger that brimmed in Hyland’s eyes.
What crossed his mind was the archbishop’s humble smile as he flattered the papal officer.
The world would not change so easily.
“Of course, I hope a world will come where, as a result of this change, the people have the choice of choosing whichever church they fancy—new or old.”
“…It sounds like you’re supposing such a thing could never be a reality.”
“It is not wholly a problem of faith. This is politics. We must do everything in our power to make sure it does not end up that way. Someone must take the step forward.”
Hyland’s gaze was piercing.
There would be danger.
But Col once left his village without paying a single mind to that danger.
Then he remembered the moment he had felt that some things in this world were worth believing in.
“What can I do?”
It was immediately after he said that.
“No.”
Myuri, who had been listening beside him the whole time, interrupted.
Then, she pushed herself between him and Hyland, forcing him back farther into the room.
“No, he won’t do it. Brother’s not gonna help the likes of you.”
“M-Myuri?!”
Col managed to straighten his posture and hold her back.
He sensed her strength—she was sincere.
“That’s enough…”
“No, you should listen to what the little miss has to say.”
For a moment, Col did not know who spoke. On the other side of Myuri, Hyland was smiling.
“I don’t want to trick or threaten people to join my side. I’ve had too much of the taste of that in the court.”
His smile was so soft, Col almost thought it belonged to a woman, but his eyes were cold as glass.
“I have had so many brothers who did not share my blood. But the kind ones who stood by me or paid attention to the feelings of others either perished or were sent away. The ones who remain are the cockroaches that refuse to die.”
He had heard that bloody fights between those of the same flesh and blood were endless in the circles of nobility. He imagined that those quarrels became incomparable once rights of succession were included in the equation. Once he understood that from Hyland’s perspective, he felt it was clear why Hyland himself possessed an impressive amount of theological knowledge. It was impossible all that was gained hastily for show. He needed it to heal the hunger and scars of his soul.
And perhaps that was the reason he always gave candy and kind words to the ill-mannered Myuri.
“I have my own reasons to look to God for guidance, much like how you want to stop your brother.”
“…”
Myuri stopped and fell into a frozen silence. Did Hyland know why she was acting up?
Then the noble looked toward the hallway and must have realized that it was time. He stood and spoke quickly.
“Col, the Debau Company should be coming for you two. When they do, ask them to think of a way to save me. At this rate, I will just be used as a hostage of war. The Kingdom of Winfiel will already be at a disadvantage, and without me, wicked plans might worm their way into the creation of the new Church.”
However, Hyland was of royal blood, and people with such power should have many avenues to seek assistance.
It was just as Col was wondering why the Debau Company would come save them and not Hyland.
“The Debau Company will not come to my rescue unconditionally. They will be weighing the scales of profit.”
Hyland and the Debau Company were tied together by mutual gain. Once things began going well for the kingdom in their fight against the pope, the Debau Company would obtain trade privileges. That was why the company cooperated and accommodated him. It was simply for personal gain. There had to be something that was of equal value to rescuing Hyland, who had been declared a heretic by the pope and arrested on orders of the city council.
“Th-then, we’ll call on the kingdom—”
Col was about to argue, but Hyland stopped him with a kind smile.
“My family is even more untrustworthy. If I did rely on them, there’s no small chance they would assassinate me.”
Col was shocked.
“If they went as far as negotiating with the pope over a hostage, that is to say myself, then they would likely arrange for me to become the first martyr of our new Church. They could remove an enemy from the court while also cultivating the people’s support. They would rejoice at the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. That is why I had no choice but to pin my hopes on you two. You have deep connections with the Debau Company, beyond anything that could be weighed for profit.”
That moment, Col finally realized the biggest reason why he was the one that Hyland brought from Nyohhira.
Hyland was connected to the Debau by profit, but Col and Myuri were different. They were family of the so-called powerhouses behind the scenes of the company, and they were treated as such. That was why Hyland so calmly calculated in Nyohhira that whatever happened, they would be rescued without any considerations to potential gain. In addition, he planned that when danger came for himself, he would borrow that influence.
Col felt no need to despise such calculation. He was not discouraged that they had been used, either.
That was because Hyland wore such a pained expression on his face. He even seemed regretful.
Hyland had said he could not depend on his family. In this seaside town, where he could faintly see the Kingdom of Winfiel on a clear day from the top of the church bell tower, he was fighting for his homeland.
Hyland, no longer having anything else to say, stood as though he had resigned himself to his fate. He walked off before Col could say anything, and the soldiers hurriedly followed.
Col’s mind was so packed with innumerable thoughts, he felt his head might burst. Before him was a stack of problems he could not have even imagined back in Nyohhira. To be honest, he did not even know where to begin.
But more than ten years ago, he stood by the side of a merchant who had boldly faced each and every hardship.
What would Lawrence do?
No matter what, he should begin with the problems right in front of him.
“Myuri.”
Hyland had seen through her somehow, and at the moment she was silent, as though a spell had been cast on her. Just like how Hyland had concealed certain things, Myuri was hiding something, too.
He called her name, and she suddenly came back to reality before drawing away from him. Perhaps she was surprised, as her back hit the latticed door before she sank to the floor with a thud.
Col was about to rush to her side when she stopped him with her gaze.
Had it been hostile and piercing, he would have been able to face it.
But instead, Myuri seemed like she was about to cry.
“A-are we going to…save that blondie?”
He thought for a moment that she was simply using tears to get her way, as she had done many times in the past. That being said, he had been with her since the moment he heard her cries at birth. He could always tell how serious she was.
His head hurt because her tears were genuine.
“Myuri.”
He called her name again, and he sat on the floor with a sigh. It had been quite a while since he last stooped to Myuri’s eye level. He had often lectured her like this long ago when she would not listen to him.
“I can’t do anything about how tomboyish you are, but you received your intellect from Holo. You are also perceptive. And I know that you are truly kind. Are you saying you don’t want to save Heir Hyland, even after learning about his position? Or do you think everything we heard just now is a lie?”
Her usual competitive spirit had quieted, and she was at a loss. It looked like she might begin crying with one more push, as her hair bristled while she squirmed.
“Myuri, your ears.”
She hurriedly pressed down on her head and curled up, keeping her hands there. She tightened herself into a ball like she wanted to hide in a place where no one would find her. He understood that she must have a good reason for doing so, but he could not imagine what.
However, she did not answer when he asked, and he was used to dealing with troublesome beings who would not give a reason for avoiding his questions. What was more, unlike an elusive God, Myuri was most definitely in front of him.
“You’ve had this attitude ever since Heir Hyland came to the bathhouse.”
Myuri continued to curl inward, as though being beaten with a stick.
“At first, I thought you were simply sulking because I was busy dealing with him.”
He could not see her face anymore.
“You’ve kept acting this way even until now, which means that this isn’t a whim of yours.”
Like a root, hidden deep under the ground, something was there.
“Is it something that makes it okay to treat troubled people and their important goals so cruelly?”
Then, as he watched her, he could clearly tell that Myuri herself was lost and in pain. Even still, she did not want him to help Hyland.
Col truly did not want to use this method because he was dealing with Myuri, but it was his last resort.
“Why do you wish to get in the way of my dreams?”
From the gap between her arms cradling her head, her expression pierced him.
She widened her eyes, her whole body tensed like cornered prey, and she tightened her lips. Her body shrank in on itself enough she seemed about to disappear, and her last line of defense crumbled.
Then, what appeared were eyes brimming with anger.
“If you…if you want to know so bad, I’ll tell you…Okay?”
Col had not expected she would fight back, so he recoiled. Her arms had just been holding her head as if to protect herself, but now they appeared to be suppressing something that might explode.
He had been sure she would defend herself and give her reasons as she cried. Then, he had imagined how he would gently listen to her and quietly admonish her. He had not thought she would defiantly bully him.
As he kept still for reasons even he did not know, Myuri declared again, “It will definitely, definitely upset you, but fine.”
Was this Myuri’s oddly intelligent strategy? Was she planning to bare her fangs and hope he retreated?
Col stood in an awkward position, and there was now something that would trouble him even more. Hyland had been taken hostage, the pope had banned the translation of the scripture, plus he and Myuri were in jail at the moment. If things continued like this, the teachings of God would remain warped, and it was even doubtful if they would live long enough to return to Nyohhira.
But Myuri, who stood face-to-face with him, did not seem to be lying. He trusted her. She lowered her arms from around her head and let out a great sigh that even reached her shoulders as she stared unwaveringly at him. It was a glare full of anger that blamed him for everything.
A silence similar to the one he had just experienced in the office overcame them.
Myuri was the one who tore it apart with her fangs.
“I don’t want to make trouble for you.”
She had to speak slowly, and he listened carefully as he did not know what would come out of her mouth next. That was how stiffly she spoke.
“But even I…have some things I don’t want to give up.”
Typically, the word modest did not apply to Myuri, so when she announced something like that, there was no doubt she was being serious.
However, they could not sit and stare at each other all day. No matter what, they had to rescue Hyland—for Col’s dreams, for Hyland himself, and for the sake of those awaiting God’s teachings.
He breathed deeply and spoke.
“I’ll hear it.” He then added words that showed his pride as Myuri’s older brother. “No matter how troubled I may be, I will figure something out.”
Myuri’s hair trembled in anticipation.
Before she said anything, he got the feeling she mouthed “stupid” to him.
“Once you save that blondie, you’re going to become a priest, right?”
“Yes. You were angry about that before. What does that…Don’t tell me.”
Col came to a realization.
“Don’t tell me this is because I might become an enemy of those considered possessed by demons once I become a priest?”
In the scripture, there were many stories of the prophets fighting against demons. But he must have explained to Myuri properly. No matter what happened, he would always be her friend.
“I’m not that inflexible. But if you think about how God created all things, then every living creature is a product of his—”
“No. That’s not it at all. I don’t care about that even a little. See…see…if you become a priest, then you won’t be…”
Myuri got into a huff, her eyes watering, and her ears and tail suddenly appeared as she spoke.
“…You can’t get…”
“What?”
“Married! You won’t be able to get married!” she yelled, and everything in Col’s mind was scattered to the wind.
“…Uh…What?” Overwhelmed by shock, he asked again. “Me?…To who?”
He could not find the words to accurately describe Myuri’s expression.
She probably had no idea what to do.
Myuri was the first to calm down. She peeped through the latticed door before rubbing her hands on her face, frowning at the heat from the friction before she continued talking.
“See, that’s why I didn’t want to say anything!”
This time, she did not hold her head, but instead hugged her knees, looking away in a huff. Her lips were pouting and her cheeks puffing up, while her tail thumped against the floor. Col realized that though sometimes her face turned bright red from anger, this time it was doing so because she was embarrassed. Also, he was a complete fool.
“Um…”
“What?”
He was heating up like a stone in the furnace.
He needed to say something, but he did not have the slightest idea what.
“R-rea…No, um, since…when?”
Instinct told him that if he asked “Really?” then she might tear out his windpipe.
He changed up his question at the last moment.
“…I don’t know.”
He had a feeling she was mumbling, “How should I know, stupid?” against her knees.
Of course, Col was aware that Myuri clung to him. She was so attached to him that it sometimes made her father, Lawrence, complain. Col thought she was cute when she did so, and he of course held her dear. But he had never looked at her in a romantic fashion.
But when he thought about it, many things fell into place. How she played around with his vow of abstinence, how she teased him, how she willfully hid in that smelly barrel and showed him an outfit she had specifically prepared, and her incredible insistence on following him along for the journey—everything suddenly made sense. Therefore, she had to see Hyland as an enemy. Hyland came from the outside world and would take him to a faraway land.
Then, it would be just as she had warned him. Considering the nature of his dreams, he would never be able to respond to Myuri’s feelings. At the same time, he did not want to hurt her. Col found himself trapped between these two truths, unable to move.
He was embarrassed for his grand speech about justice and whatnot. If a personal problem arose before him, he could not dismiss it as a trivial matter. He understood how Myuri stood up to Hyland’s justice with her love alone. It balanced out quite well.
Now the problem was how the balanced scales would tip, and even Col did not have a clue as to the answer. There were metaphysical questions in theology that were grossly overwhelming, such as how many angels could dance on the tip of a needle. But commonplace questions regarding who loved whom were even more difficult. Myuri’s indication that Col was only looking at half of half of the world was scarily accurate.
But even though he knew the truth now, there was nothing to be done. All he could think of was to tell her how pitiful he was and that she deserved to find an even more wonderful person.
Even he knew how miserable that would be.
And then, as though she had seen straight through to the agony in his heart, Myuri gave off a loud sigh.
A girl half his age glared at him out of the corner of her eyes.
“It doesn’t matter. I know you just think I’m like an ermine, running around in the hills and fields.”
She was cute and nimble. Ermines certainly had particular characteristics, like sneaking into food storage sheds searching for this and that, that resembled Myuri’s.
“But if I hadn’t told you now, I don’t think you’d ever notice, so I guess it’s okay. Once you save the blondie, you’ll leave me behind and go to the Kingdom of Winfiel anyway, right? Because it’ll be dangerous once the fighting starts or whatever.”
Myuri firmly stroked her head to hide her ears, putting away her tail, and stood up.
There was no way to trick her. He could not logically consider taking her to the Kingdom of Winfiel. Once the war started, the strait would be blockaded, and he could not imagine what horrific tragedies awaited them if they lost.
“You’re…right.”
The intelligent Myuri glanced at him sideways, then snorted.
“I liked you! Stupid.”
She spoke in a way that sounded like her age, and it was cute.
“So? What’s happening again?”
Myuri could change tacks quickly if she slept well. Or perhaps she simply understood that nothing would come of anything if they stayed standing here. Much like how he knew her from when she was a baby, she had been looking up to Col ever since she was born.
But he felt like a very thin film had formed between them.
Col felt like that fine barrier was cutting off her voice, her actions, even her warmth—everything that was precious to him.
It would be selfish of him to feel sad.
Life was a journey, and journeys were a series of meetings and partings.
“Um…According to Heir Hyland, Mr. Stefan from the Debau Company was going to come collect us. Then, we must negotiate.”
“How confident are you?” she asked coolly, but Col preferred that to her clinging to him with hot tears streaming down her face.
“Not at all. The Debau Company is an organization of merchants. If we don’t have anything to offer them, they may not heed our proposals.”
“Why not tell them to save blondie, and if they don’t, we’ll die?”
“That’s the best I can think of, too, but is that possible? I’ve heard it’s just a myth that you can die from biting your tongue.”
He did not even have anything like a short sword.
“…I don’t even want to do anything like that for blondie in the first place.”
“I can easily imagine that Mr. Stefan will already know we want to save Heir Hyland. Even if we stubbornly insist, the most we’ll manage is getting stuffed into sacks and taken back to Nyohhira. That way, Mr. Stefan can say he was fulfilling his obligations. We have to bring something, something to negotiate with.”
The Debau Company was a profit-seeking organization. It was clear that there was no point in appealing to them with nothing but faith and conscience.
Conversely, he knew they would pay attention once the conversation became about concrete gains and losses. That was the only thing they were frank about.
However, Col of course did not have any worthwhile ideas or assets to barter.
He did not have any means.
“Oh God…”
He gripped the crest of the Church that hung from his neck and groaned. Myuri was staring at him blankly, but she would not insult God or faith right now.
He exhaled deeply again and was about to again examine anything and everything that came to mind.
“If we’re just going to be saving the blondie, then I can manage that,” Myuri said, still expressionless.
“And that’s…?”
Myuri sighed, rustled around inside her shirt, and fished out a small pouch that was tied together with string.
It was the pouch stuffed with wheat that her mother, Holo, had given to her.
“Didn’t I say that as long as I had this, I could help you whenever you needed it the most?”
“Don’t tell me…”
Myuri’s mother, Holo, was the avatar of a wolf who lived in the wheat, and she could freely change between her girl and giant wolf forms. But Myuri should not have been able to transform into a wolf.
Col looked at her with eyes widened in surprise, and Myuri spoke with incredible distress on her face.
“I practiced really hard…so if I don’t do it right, Mother will get really mad at me.”
There were legends about lions that dropped their young into bottomless ravines.
Perhaps wolves were the same.
“But it’s all because I want to protect you, Brother, and not to help that blondie. Okay? I’m doing this for your dreams. Because when people like you have their dreams destroyed, they get so depressed and end up wasting away. It’s hard to watch. I don’t want such a gloomy person in a village as small as Nyohhira. So I’d prefer it if you chased your dreams and had your stupid fun somewhere far away. Understand?”
Myuri was being overtly condescending, but her expression made it clear that she was saying these things more for herself. As a romantic herself, she probably did not want to use her trump card in a situation like this. There was no mistaking she had imagined using it in a different situation, one where they had been driven into desperate and dangerous straits, when the knight would rush in to fight the dragon that had captured the princess.
And even still, she had a tool in her hand that would open the door, and she was helping him, even though what lay beyond was an outcome she did not wish for.
Her affection for Col reached him through her actions.
Myuri’s eyes filled with drive, as though she was enduring some trial. Col gazed into them and said, “I understand. Myuri. Really…truly, thank you.”
More pain crossed her face, but she turned away in a huff.
“I don’t mind…if you reconsider falling in love with me again, you know.”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but he could not determine if she was serious or not. Perhaps it was both, and he had no choice but to take it as a joke.
“I have reconsidered. You are a very selfish person, but a nice, kind girl who can save people.”
“Hey!”
She was obviously angry, but also sad. Still, her ears and tail did not show.
He could tell she had made a clear decision in her mind.
He had to do the same.
“But what will we do after we break everyone free and get out of the manor? Are we just going to run? I can’t give people a ride like Mother can.”
Apparently, Myuri could not transform into a giant wolf who could swallow people whole. The best option would be to escape to the Kingdom of Winfiel by sea, but it would be difficult to procure a boat. It took considerable manpower to operate a vessel hardy enough to cross the strait.
Beings such as demon possessed or sprites existed on this earth, but they had their reasons for trying their best to conform to the human world and living unnoticed. The society that humans created was a complicated one, and sheer brute force was helpless against much of it.
“I want to get to the Kingdom of Winfiel, preferably by boat.”
“Then, should I give Sir…er…I mean that Stefan guy a little nip in the butt? I’m sure he can at least prepare a boat for us.”
The errand boys at the company must have called Stefan “Sir.”
“No…Even if we manage to coerce him to get a boat for us, there is no way we will go unnoticed by the archbishop and the papal officer, and that won’t do. Mr. Stefan is innocent, and if things go poorly, then the problems may affect the Debau Company itself. The wagon that brought us to this place is still here, so let’s escape with that. We can get to the kingdom from any town, as long as Heir Hyland’s connections are there. As for you, we’ll send a letter to Nyohhira and ask Holo and Lawrence to come get you.”
“…Okay. So right now, we just need to rescue blondie and friends, who are all being held here. The sun has set, so that’s perfect.”
Beyond the barred window, he could see the faint glow of the city center and the silhouettes of the tall buildings against it.
“Let’s go.”
“Okay.”
Myuri opened the little pouch she had received from Holo, retrieved some of the wheat inside, and put it in her mouth.
She swallowed it like a bitter pill and suddenly looked at Col.
“Brother.”
“What is it?”
“…Look away.”
Myuri seemed embarrassed. Though she did not seem to mind him seeing her naked, apparently watching her turn into a beast was another story. Col had no reason to refuse, so he turned his back and virtuously covered his eyes.
Then, he recalled that she was still wearing borrowed clothes and whirled back around, but the silver wolf was already before him.
“…I didn’t tell you to turn around. I wanted to do some grooming first…”
Myuri was always self-conscious about her appearance, and her red eyes bored into him. She was certainly smaller than Holo, but she still dwarfed the wolves normally found running about the forest. If she stood on her hind legs, Myuri would easily be taller than him.
“…I was just about to remind you that you were still wearing your clothes.”
“They ripped, didn’t they?”
Fragments of cloth were strewn about her.
The pouch from Holo was also on the floor, so he picked it up and placed it in his shirt.
“But I’m glad you’re not scared, Brother.”
“I’ve seen Holo’s wolf form many times.”
“I know. She said you really liked her tail.”
He found embarrassment creeping over him, and he cleared his throat.
“And priests do not fear wolves. The ancient saint Hiero calmed the rampage of a ferocious wolf by removing the thorns stuck in its feet, and he then became the patron saint of livestock and hunting. He is always depicted with a wolf in art.”
“That argumentative tendency of yours is your biggest flaw.”
Her tail whacked him in the face.
“What should we do about the clothes I left at the company?”
“Cough…your clothes? I’ll send a letter later for those.”
“Well, that’s fine. It’s not like I have anyone to show them to anymore.”
She regarded him spitefully, and he could only shrink back.
“It’s a joke. It’s not your fault.”
Then whose fault was it?
As he wondered if he should retort with that question, Myuri shivered.
Then, she bit into the latticed door to distract herself.
“Grrrrr…”
Accompanying her distinct, earth-rumbling growl was the creak of wood, and she crushed the latticed door like soft cheese.
“Peh!”
She shook her head at last, and with a series of cracks, the hinge burst off the latticed door. Myuri removed the fragments of wood stuck in her mouth with her front paws and glanced back at Col.
“Aren’t you going to praise me?”
“Well done.”
“That’s all?” she said. Her large frame crept toward him, and she rubbed the rigid nape of her neck. Apparently, this was a demand that he pet her. Her form was a frightening wolf, but on the inside, she was still Myuri. And though she was large, she was still a realistic size, so nothing prevented him from bringing her around town. For a moment, he imagined Myuri waiting by his side as he preached, scripture in one hand.
He rubbed at her fur as if to erase the image.
“What a beautiful coat.”
He spoke absently, and Myuri’s red eyes turned to him, her teeth on display.
He could tell she was smiling contentedly.
“Take care of the rest.”
“Leave it to me.”
Her tail flicked to the side, and despite her great size, she slipped out into the hall without a sound. The hallway was dark now that the sun had set, creating an especially surreal scene.
Myuri sniffed the floor and set out without any hesitation.
Suddenly, she broke into a run around the corner ahead, and Col immediately heard a yell.
It became quiet again soon after, and Myuri returned with a key ring in her mouth.
“…And the guard?”
“Delicious.”
His eyes unwittingly darted her mouth to check if there was blood.
“I licked his face the moment we ran into each other. I think he heard the noise and was coming to investigate.”
Even the hardiest of mercenaries would faint at a sudden encounter with a wolf’s tongue in the darkness.
“Most of the soldiers are gone from the manor. I wonder where they went.”
She lifted her head, and her great nose sniffed the air.
“I think the blondie’s room is upstairs.”
When she did not say “downstairs,” relief washed over him. He had imagined torture occurring in the basement.
“Then let’s go.”
Quietly, quickly, Col followed after Myuri as she proceeded with her head low. He wondered if their audacious progression would be all right, but the halls were empty and the whole manor was quiet. When she ascended the stairs, he could hear muffled cries and groaning coming from above, but then they fell silent. After he reached the top, soldiers lay collapsed on the floor, their eyes blank. A handheld candlestick holding a still-burning candle lay on its side nearby, so Col picked up the light source and took it with him.
Myuri was already at the end of the hall, sitting motionlessly in front of one room.
When he cast the light on her, she resembled a statue even more.
—Is this it?
He whispered and pointed to the door. She raised her tail once, then quickly lowered it as confirmation. He placed his ear on the door, and he could hear voices inside. Perhaps Hyland was being interrogated at that very moment.
“When I knock on the door, I want you to get them when they come out.”
In lieu of an answer, she rose to all fours and leaned forward, ready to pounce at any time. Then, just before he knocked, he suddenly froze. Myuri sent him a questioning gaze.
“Heir Hyland might be surprised, seeing you like this.”
She waited for his next whispered words.
“But I will most definitely defend your honor.”
Her red eyes slowly closed, and she resumed her previous stance.
He took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles on the door.
“We’ve received news! It’s urgent!”
He knocked again, feigning urgency. For a few moments, he could sense their hesitation on the other side of the door, and after another knock, he heard someone rise from a chair. Then, the moment the bar on the door was lifted, Col and Myuri forced their way in with all their strength.
“!!”
Everything happened in an instant. By the time Col saw Myuri slip into the room like so much smoke, she was already pinning the soldier down with her paw.
“Heir Hyland.”
He passed by Myuri to enter the room, and Hyland finally recovered from the shock.
“C-Col?”
“I’m glad you’re safe. We’ve come to rescue you.”
The room was bleak, with only a simple table in the center of it. Hyland was not even tied up, and a single flask and two cups rested on the table.
“Am I hallucinating?”
Myuri sat obediently beside the door. The candlelight cast stark shadows that gave her the appearance of a delicate painting.
“God has graciously allowed me to make use of this animal.”
To be fair, it was the truth. Hyland nodded in understanding, though he seemed confused still as he rose from the chair. But he was a valiant and intelligent person. Once his surprise settled and he studied Myuri without faltering, something caught his attention.
“Those red eyes…”
A chill came over Col, but Hyland shook his head.
“No, I won’t ask. Our Kingdom of Winfiel was also led by a golden sheep when it was established.”
In the Kingdom of Winfiel, where sheep were abundant, there was a legend of a giant sheep covered in golden wool.
If Col told Hyland that they had met that sheep once on a journey, he would laugh.
“And I was raised among scoundrels. I can tell most things by others’ eyes.”
Hyland bravely approached Myuri and extended his hand.
“You have good eyes.”
Myuri lowered her head, slightly embarrassed, and allowed Hyland to pet her fur.
“Well then, I have been saved by a miracle. God is ordering me to complete my mission.”
“I have the keys. Let us retrieve your companions and escape this town. Then, we’ll prepare a boat at another…”
Col stopped mid-sentence and closed his mouth because of Hyland’s countenance.
There was no joy at the occurrence of a miracle or the prospect of escape.
His face was instead painted in heroic resolve.
“I cannot leave this town. Run with my subordinates, Col. They’re all good people who have dedicated themselves to my house.”
“That’s, ah…Heir Hyland, why?”
“On your way to this room, did you come across any guards?”
The sudden question startled him, as perhaps Hyland had information that they did not.
“There are no guards in the manor because they’re all headed to the city center. The people from the Debau Company haven’t come yet, either, have they? That’s because they don’t have the time to be rescuing us. Everyone gathering there was ordered to surrender the names of the Kingdom of Winfiel’s sympathizers, for the sake of the townspeople.”
Col glanced back at Myuri, and she eyed the unconscious guard by the door.
“It seems there are a great number of Church critics turning up at the town square with the translated scripture. The craftsmen and commercial associations I convinced seem to have risen up right on schedule. Several of them used rather unpleasant methods to stoke the flames of the craftsmen’s passions before tonight, but that bright, red fire you see now is an inferno of anger.”
They noticed it from the room. The town atop the hill was boldly burning.
At the same time, Col was relieved that Hyland did not plan the sacrilegious act of dressing a dog in priests’ clothing. There was no error in his judgment. Hyland stood above those people—he followed the path of righteousness.
“The townspeople are greater in number, so they should have the advantage at the beginning. However, the instigators of an uproar born of energy alone cannot win against disciplined soldiers. They will reach a standstill, and once they understand that it will not develop into anything significant, they will run out of momentum. Many times, I have seen peasants and day workers quit in the middle of a revolt because they have work the next day. If the soldiers intervene the moment the tension relaxes, it will all collapse in a matter of seconds. A few people will be arrested as a warning, and tomorrow they will be hung on the street corner. That is how it always happens.”
Hyland was a noble and a landowner. He knew much about popular uprisings and how they ended.
“Alcohol and atmosphere will spur on most of them, but a not insignificant number will be truly protesting. ‘We speak for justice. The people earnestly seek an honest and pure God they can believe in.’ But once the commotion dies down and they see their neighbors rotting away in the gallows on the corner, they’ll think, Hyland didn’t come. No one from the Kingdom of Winfiel came.”
And then, life would continue as always. Nothing would change in the days to come as the results of evil practices trickled down to them.
“People likely still believe I’m in the church, debating away with the archbishop. They will raise their fists to aid me. If they learn that I am not there, that I ran away a long time ago, who on earth would listen to me anymore?”
“But—”
“Listen, if I go, then the archbishop and papal officer can say that I stirred up the people. I’m sure the archbishop will want to do his utmost to avoid severe action against the townspeople. I’m sure he wishes to stay a prominent figure in town. That is why I…”
Hyland made his declaration.
“I have to go there and denounce the archbishop. I have to show that I am the leader of this upheaval. Sorry to have you go through all the trouble of saving me, but…”
He finished his speech as if in jest. Of course, it was no laughing matter.
“…Afterward, they’ll kill me.”
The pope had already sanctioned him as a heretic and declared war. Once Hyland stood at the head of the people, there would be no more room for vague decisions. Would the archbishop meet his demands and stand with them against the pope? If not, he would kill Hyland, announcing to the world that the pope will not give in.
Once Hyland appeared, the people’s anger would not cool until it reached its conclusion.
“You don’t think I can win by persuasion?”
Hyland was smiling, but Col was unable to respond. The young man could only shake his head. He prayed that the noble’s resolute actions and convictions would reach someone who would accept them.
“Of course, now that the papal officer is here, I would appreciate one or two more supporters, but…Well, at this rate, it’s much better than being tortured and made to suffer. At the very least, I want to be able to decide when my life should end. Afterward, even though all my brothers are terrible people, I know they’ll make good use of the opportunity. No doubt they will make good use of my death for a theatrical display of sadness and mourning,” he warned lifelessly. When Col imagined what kind of life Hyland had led, his emotions upon opening the scripture, his heart ached.
Then, Hyland saw his expression and a warm, happy smile crossed his face.
“Well then, let’s get things moving. Some people should already be declaring that I’ve run away by now.”
“Then, I, too—”
Col subconsciously leaned forward as he spoke, but Hyland reached out with a long arm and pushed his chest.
It was so sudden, Col stumbled and toppled backward into soft and strong fur.
Myuri broke his fall and growled up at Hyland over his shoulder.
“Did you hear God’s messenger? I can go.”
Myuri’s large ruby eyes were fixed on Col.
“Even if you did come along with that wolf, it would only fan the flames of the commotion. Next time, knocking out a guard like you’ve done now won’t be enough to settle matters. You need to be prepared to kill and be killed. And even still, it is up to fate as to whether or not you can protect yourself. I do not wish for you to be bloodied, Col. I could not stand to see that beautiful fur stained, either,” he said.
Myuri said nothing and simply regarded Hyland quietly.
He was painfully aware that she did not want to hear anything from him.
Then, Hyland gave Col a troubled smile.
“Col, sorry for troubling you.”
“No, don’t be…O-oh yes, now we can ask Mr. Stefan from the Debau Company to help you—”
“Col.”
He sounded like Col did when he was admonishing Myuri.
“Unfortunately, Stefan and the Debau Company are on the archbishop’s side. That man sleeping there told me that the reason the archbishop knew about the sanction order ahead of time was because a Debau Company express ship leaked that information. ‘So don’t expect any help,’ he said.”
Col recalled the dragonfly-like boat that Myuri had told him about yesterday. She’d said it forced itself into the port as the sun was setting, which caused problems for the people working there.
“Stefan probably has some sort of secret agreement with the archbishop and enjoys special privileges. There has to be an economic reason as to why he’s cooperating with the clergy even though most of the townspeople are against them. So I can’t imagine him helping us. Rather, I would not be surprised if he’s sent all his underlings out to every association head in order to pressure them into calming the situation—‘Your official stance will be in support of the Church, and if you do not listen, then we will no longer do business with you.’ The craftsmen are vulnerable to such threats. They will absolutely ensure that you do not escape. Oh, and don’t try anything stupid. They know where you come from. One wrong move and disaster might befall Nyohhira. You don’t want that, do you?”
“…”
Hyland finished his explanation and took a deep breath, then smiled at Myuri.
“Take care of this genuine servant of God. You don’t see them much nowadays.”
“Woof.”
Myuri howled just like a wolf, and Hyland seemed pleased.
“I thank God for the good fortune I had in meeting you.”
It was a carefree, gentle smile.
They could not exactly show Myuri to other humans, so Col and Hyland shared the task of freeing their companion attendants from around the manor. Once they were all assembled, Col recognized again how few they were.
Though Hyland was not the type to go around with a large retinue anyway, there were very few he could trust in the first place.
They wished to accompany Hyland to his fate as well, but he refused. He seemed unwilling to bring anybody but his few personal guards. They, too, knew that nothing they could say would reach him.
The wagon that had brought them here was still in the stable, and though it was a bit small, everyone could fit inside if they also used the driver’s seat. The person driving would borrow the uniform of the unconscious, tied-up soldier and disguise himself. That way, they would most likely not be questioned when they tried to enter the city at such a time. Myuri had already left for the city walls, however, and was probably already trouncing the watch around now.
The center of the town upon the hill was glowing a deeper and deeper crimson.
It was said that candles burned the brightest just before they were extinguished. There was no time.
“Well, Heir Hyland…Till we meet again…”
“Yes, I look forward to it.”
Hyland stood before the stables, seeing off the wagon carrying his subordinates with a smile.
Then, he untied a horse and brought it to the entrance of the manor.
“You go, too.”
It pained Col that he had no reason to say no.
“The translation of the scripture should be in your head. Do all you can to antagonize the pope and friends.”
As long as he had pen and ink, he could re-create the translation many times. He could carry on Hyland’s will.
“Well, then.”
Hyland gripped Col’s hand and forced the reins into it, then spun on his heel. He exchanged a few words with his personal guards, who were disguised as soldiers, and then jumped up onto a horse, alone. He did not look back at them. He kicked its side and set off with the guards.
Hyland left nothing behind and simply disappeared down the road.
It was his last act of consideration, ensuring Col would not reel from his departure.
“Brother.”
Suddenly, a silver wolf appeared from the shadows, and the spooked horse tried to run. Col tugged on the reins, and it calmed.
Myuri had returned from her mission at the city wall, and she rubbed her big nose and neck on his face. When he did not move, she spoke slowly.
“Let’s go home.”
He looked at her, and she returned his gaze gloomily.
Her red eyes were telling him there was no way to save Hyland.
Would God not reach out to such a dedicated servant?
“Why am I…so powerless?”
He gripped the Church’s crest on his chest so hard it might meld with his hand and fought back the tears. He only had his knowledge on paper—he did not have powers like Myuri; he was not noble like Hyland; nor did he possess the talents of the great adventurers he had once accompanied, Lawrence and Holo.
He was nothing but a lone dreamer fantasizing about an idealistic world.
“Why…why…?”
It was when the sob slipped from his mouth.
A sudden impact connected with his stomach, and the earth and the skies reversed.
It was so sudden he did not feel any pain, and when he opened his eyes, his vision was filled with rows of sharp teeth.
“Do you want to be God?”
Myuri was looking down at him, her eyes watering with tears.
“Hyland thanked you properly and praised you so much even though you seemed uncomfortable. That praise was real. They’d sometimes come and listen when you were so absorbed in working. That’s why Hyland said he needed to work hard, too, and that it was God’s will that you met.”
He had no idea.
“That’s why, Brother, I did everything you told me to. You brought support to someone who couldn’t find any in this world. Doesn’t that make for a splendid priest?”
This was the first time she had called Hyland by his proper name, and she poked his cheek with her nose. It was as though she was trying to force her words into his head.
“And you’re not the powerless one, Brother. Mother told me something once. She said, even with big fangs and claws, there are many things you can do nothing about. So find someone precious. And I did.”
Her left paw heavily pushed down on his chest.
“Guh?!”
“And that someone said no.”
She was pressing so hard upon his chest, he genuinely could not breathe. He gripped her front leg, and she finally removed it.
“Nyohhira is not as complicated as the outside world, and there’s nice hot water.”
It was a rather convincing claim from Myuri since she was born and raised there.
“Brother.”
The last word was not spoken kindly.
He knew that if he did not respond, it would hurt her. A man who turned down a wonderful girl like Myuri at the very least must grow into a worthy person himself.
He got up and brushed the dirt off his clothes. When he did, Col finally noticed that the string on the crest in his grip had been torn off.
“…”
He felt Myuri’s gaze on him and smiled dryly.
“I will not throw it away.”
“Oh, too bad.”
If Col cast off the teachings of God, then he would no longer have a reason to uphold his vows of abstinence.
That being said, if he tossed the crest of the Church away, then Myuri might get angry or sad.
“Let’s go back. I have the obligation to protect you and take you back to Nyohhira safely.”
“Ooh, you’re going to protect me?”
Myuri contentedly sniffed his waist with her big nose.
As he dodged her, he searched around in his clothes and took out his wallet to put the crest away.
“I feel like I’ll be punished for putting it with my coins…”
“No, you wouldn’t. I think they’d be happy.”
“Why would you say such a…?”
“What? But isn’t the Church collecting a lot of money? I went into the church to help, and the donation box was stuffed with change. There was even a picture of an angel with a scale at the company, too.”
When he met with the Debau Company messenger, he had even said something about the scripture in one hand and the scales in another. Perhaps it was a theme that the people of the Debau Company particularly liked.
“I told you before that the scales represent equality. The sword is justice.”
“Really? I thought it was equipment meant for squeezing tax money out of the townspeople.”
The sword threatens, and the scale weighs the coins. He thought her statement was rather disrespectful, but it troubled him that he understood where she was coming from. A single painting could inspire many interpretations.
And of course, it would not look good for the Church if their donation box was constantly packed with coins. But the clergy would use that money for charity and other holy works in the community. They should be recirculating that money back into the town. That was why appearances alone were not enough to judge…and his thought process stopped as something occurred to him.
Recirculating the money back into town?
He felt like he had heard something that contradicted that claim somewhere.
“Brother?”
He must have stopped in his tracks deliberating again, but Myuri’s voice pulled him back to the present.
And then, he remembered. The scales.
“The money changers…”
“Huh?”
When he became aware of one thing, a long chain of ideas fell into place. The reason he left Nyohhira in the first place was because he could not accept how grubby the pope was with money.
His vision blurred, and when he came to, Myuri was supporting him.
“Brother? Sorry, did I hit you somewhere?”
Her side was holding him up, and her neck and tail hugged him worriedly on either side.
But he could not respond right away. His thoughts were roiling inside his head, and he could not breathe.
“Donations…The angel and the scales…The Debau…Company…”
The picture in his head was coming into focus.
The Debau Company and the Church were connected by mutual benefit, and that was why the company supported the Church. What would happen if such an exchange became a scandal? Even if it was originally nothing more than a simple transaction, it could be interpreted differently depending on how the fact was presented. Like Myuri said, even a painting of an angel could look like a greedy demon.
If they suggested such a thing to Stefan, his face would undoubtedly go pale. Considering the current situation and environment, the townspeople would direct their anger at the Debau Company, it would lose many of its business dealings, and most importantly, would likely be torched by the mob. Despite all that, would the company still wish to support the archbishop?
After removing the Debau Company’s support, the archbishop would probably also crumble. Even with the papal officer’s sanctions, parchment could not defend against the sword. Plus, it was a terribly long distance between here and the pope’s seat of power. If the pope could not come rescue the archbishop by the time he hung at the gallows, then his authority meant nothing.
The painting of the angel with the sword and scales gained a third meaning.
Life or profit.
They had to try.
Hyland had told them to abandon him, but they could not. It was much worse for priests to give up than it was for merchants, because they were people who devoted their entire lives to asceticism without complaint in order to encounter a God that no one had ever met.
“Brother.”
Myuri called his name, and he turned his attention to her; her red eyes were narrowed in exasperation.
“You look scary.”
“I was just thinking.”
“I like your angry look. And when you’re flustered, too.”
It was even more embarrassing to hear it coming from a wolf. That was when something came to mind.
“Myuri, you weren’t trying to make me angry on purpose, were you?”
Myuri just whapped the back of his head with her tail and did not answer.
“Honestly…But it seems that selfishness of yours comes in handy sometimes.”
“Really?”
“If we hadn’t gone shopping for food, I’m sure I would never have noticed. I see…Guess I should get my nose out of my books sometimes and walk about town.”
When he saw her blank stare, he considered how expressive the faces of wolves could be.
“And everything you saw and heard about town. Two heads are truly better than one on a journey. Especially if I’m only looking at half of half of the world.”
He stood and said, “There is still something we can do to save Hyland. We can still fight for our ideals.”
“Aww…”
Though she complained, her fur bristled enough to make the horse look away in discomfort.
“There is no time. You said you cannot carry people like Holo can, but is that true?”
Myuri’s eyes crinkled in a grin.
The cold air sliced his ears like knives. On the other hand, the parts of him touching the rough fur below him became so hot that they were sweaty. Col clung to Myuri’s back as she zipped through the rural countryside in no time before jumping into a desolate residential area without losing speed at all. With unbelievable tenacity, she leaped over crates, strays, laundry, work wagons, and every other barrier along the roads. Whenever they turned a corner, she made a great leap, which felt like they were running on the walls sometimes, but he did not think too deeply about it. He believed that Myuri would be all right.
When she finally slowed down, they were about a block away from the Debau Company trading house. A great tumult echoed around them like thunder and lightning. He wondered if Hyland was all right amid the chaos of the town square.
When Col alighted from Myuri’s back, she opened her mouth wide, and the steam that left it was whiter than that of the hot springs.
“Are you all right?”
“I want to keep running.”
“…The distance between here and Nyohhira should be just about right.”
There was considerable strength in the angry flash of her fangs.
“Find a place to hide yourself around here.”
“Aww…”
Of course, that was not a straightforward response. Her red eyes pierced through him coolly, as though saying, Why would you say that?
“It’s a joke.”
Myuri jabbed him with her nose.
“Brother, I don’t like the way you’re acting. What are you plotting?”
“Nothing. I’ve just thought of a way to make Mr. Stefan realize he’s done something wrong.”
“What are you going to do?”
When she asked, he flung back his cloak, which was unmistakably the vestment of a priest.
“You and Heir Hyland both taught me that you boldly declare something, then it will seem true.”
“Huh?”
Myuri tilted her head, and Col whispered his plan to her.
She suddenly bared her fangs and wagged her tail.
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s a perfect lie for an honest boy like you.”
No, it was not a lie.
They would simply manipulate the other party into misunderstanding all on their own.
After he had this thought, Col suddenly wondered if Myuri was corrupting him, but it was not a bad feeling.
Col knocked on the back door of the Debau Company and was asked to identify himself.
“I am Tote Col, staying here as a guest.”
The inspection window on the door opened, and a familiar face appeared. It was Lewis. He peeked out of the window with a grim expression, which instantly turned to relief. The commotion was happening nearby, so he was likely on the lookout for thieves taking advantage of the chaos or people with torches.
“Welcome back. I am glad to see that you are safe.”
Lewis probably had no idea that they had just been arrested, been thrown in jail, and then escaped. He opened the door for them immediately.
Col entered, and just after Lewis bowed politely, he saw what came in after him and froze.
“Where is Mr. Stefan?” Col asked, but Lewis was frozen in a strange pose, and only his eyes turned to look at him. He seemed to believe that if he moved at all he would be swallowed whole.
“It’s all right.”
Col smiled softly and patted wolf Myuri’s head. She gave a throaty growl, wagged her tail, and lowered her head like a dog.
The miraculous sight overwhelmed Lewis.
“H-he’s in the office…”
“Thank you.”
Col walked off after offering his gratitude, and Lewis sank to the floor.
“Am I that scary?”
She seemed rather hurt, but she jabbed him with her head as though telling him not to speak.
The large building was quiet throughout. Perhaps it seemed that way because of the chaos happening before their eyes and under their noses, or perhaps the company was holding its breath to hide its dealings with the Church.
“Well, here it is.”
The hallway in front of the office had been crowded with people just the day before, but now it was empty. There were cavities on either side of the door holding stone candlesticks, and fancy beeswax candles illuminated the spaces.
Col took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
“Mr. Stefan.”
However, there came no response. He looked to Myuri, and she sniffed. Apparently, he was inside.
“Mr. Stefan, it’s me. Tote Col.”
If Stefan was in communication with the archbishop, then he would know that Col should not be here. Col could feel the bewilderment and confusion seeping out from the other side of the door. When he was about to just force the door open, he heard a voice from inside.
“Come in.”
It was a steady voice, fitting for someone who ran a trading house.
“Thank you.”
He opened the door and entered.
A giant world map hung on one wall, and it was the same as the one in the room they stayed in. What was different was on the opposite wall; there were huge stacks of parchment as well as parchment rolls that had been simply left there. Written on them were most likely transactions for an enormous number and variety of goods and a dizzying assortment of privileges and permits. The scripture, penned to guide people to a good life, was not that thick by comparison, but the amount of words needed for a large company to stay profitable was unbelievably large.
Stefan sat at a large desk in the farthest corner of the room.
“No, it really is you…So the report that Heir Hyland showed up is also…Huh?”
He saw Myuri slip into the room beside Col and seemed even more startled than the errand boy had been.
“Do you believe in the miracles of God?” he said, standing with wolf Myuri. Stefan opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. Someone who should be in jail was standing in his office next to a giant wolf.
Could it be anything but a miracle?
“Please relax. I am not here to punish those who have turned their backs on the teachings of God.”
It was unforgivable for the devout followers of God to tell lies.
That was why Col was not lying.
Myuri was simply baring her fangs and growling.
“However, I do wish to spread God’s righteous teachings.”
Directly after Col spoke, Stefan gave a retort.
“Th-the Kingdom of Winfiel has been deemed heretical! The translation of the scripture that you wrote has also been banned! It is quite obvious who is the most faithful to his teachings!”
He probably yelled because he was aware of his shamefulness.
“Do the townspeople know this?”
Stefan was at a loss for words for a moment, but he was a merchant. He struck back quickly.
“They do! That is why they are causing such a ruckus! Learn from the Kingdom of Winfiel, they say! I can’t believe it! They have no idea what that means! They cannot understand the glory of the pope and the beauty of the Church!”
The words that Stefan shouted at them were empty, and it sounded like he was trying desperately to convince himself. Perhaps Stefan had taken a gamble. He learned about the sanction through the company’s information network, abandoned Hyland, and chose to side firmly with the archbishop. But against expectations, the townspeople did not fear the pope’s sanction.
Hyland had presumed correctly. The people had had enough of the Church’s tyranny.
Yet it did not seem that Stefan would give up. He was praying that the archbishop would win and their relationship would continue unchanged.
“By the way, I heard that you and the archbishop are from the same town.”
Stefan stopped his yelling and suddenly fell silent.
He was more astonished than he was when Myuri entered the room.
“You seem to have many deals with the Church.”
“Th-that’s…that’s, so what? That’s something that e-e-e-everyone in town knows.”
It was almost humorous how much he trembled. He was not a fool. He must have imagined the possibility himself—the distinct chance that his deep ties with the Church would also draw him into the upheaval if the Church came under attack.
“Everyone may know, but have they seen it?”
“…S-seen? Seen what?”
Hyland was right when he told him to look up from books once in a while.
“This trading house is weighing the donations that the Church has collected. Maybe exporting them to towns that need the change, correct?”
That must have been why Myuri was counting coins.
“And perhaps coin collected as tithes?”
“Y-y-you are…what—?”
“Perhaps it was an appropriate trade. But if you truly think so, from the bottom of your heart, then how about it? Why not explain it to the townspeople?”
“Wha…?”
“Let them see if a row of crates, all packed with coins, falls in line with the Church’s teachings on asceticism.”
“Ah…”
“Even though the locals grow more desperate for coins they need for daily life, the Church is sending off such a large amount to other towns for nothing but personal gain. If the people learn that, why would they believe that the Church is their friend? To make matters worse, the archbishop already has a great reputation for indulging in extravagant meals.”
It was the same as the translation of the scripture. Once anyone saw it with their own eyes, they would understand immediately.
“Moderation, Mr. Stefan. The Church will certainly lose many things. But they were taking too much in the first place. Many of the Church’s actions cannot be fully justified. Mr. Stefan.”
Col called the man’s name again before clearing his throat.
“Have you read the translation of the scripture?”
A greasy drop of sweat dripped from Stefan’s chin.
However, the head of this branch of the Debau Company was not wearing the expression of a man whose mind had frozen. He was desperately calculating. It was the same as when he obtained information about the coming sanction from the pope, making the same computations before he sold out Hyland. The situation had changed when they escaped from jail. And yet the final, conclusive factor Stefan required was indeed missing, and because of that, Hyland prepared himself for death.
That was why Col came here with Myuri, fully aware of the dangers.
“You may evaluate the gains as much as you wish, but…”
Maybe Myuri sensed the atmosphere since she stood tall on all fours.
He was terrible at keeping up appearances in front of women, but he was used to doing so before God.
He put on his show.
“Why do you think that someone like me is treated so kindly by the distinguished head of the Debau Company, pillar of the northlands?”
Stefan most likely thought that Col was nothing but a traveling priest he often saw in town. But beside him stood a silver wolf, and he had somehow even escaped from imprisonment.
From the perspective of someone unfamiliar with the details, one had to wonder why the head of the Debau Company supported the Kingdom of Winfiel and why he ordered Stefan to treat this young man kindly.
The walls of the company were decorated with images of angels holding swords and scales.
The teachings of God were not a deception.
“Mr. Stefan.”
Stefan, a man almost twenty years Col’s senior, was shocked into sitting up straight.
This must be how a person looked when facing their final judgment.
“You will talk to the archbishop, won’t you?”
However, as he raised his head, he still hesitated. And then, Col realized—Stefan and the archbishop shared a hometown. Perhaps this was not a matter of profit and loss.
“We do not wish to eradicate the Church. And though there are many problems with the archbishop, I have heard that he is rather dedicated to his holy work. I’m sure he will continue working in his position here as he has been, and I’m sure the people will want that, too.”
The man had cried at the happiness of baptisms and weddings. Hyland had not confirmed it, but it was probably not wrong. Stefan’s drawn lips trembled, but he suddenly relaxed as if the invisible strings holding him up had been cut. For a moment, Col thought he had fainted.
“…I…understand.”
In the end, it was the archbishop that Stefan was concerned about. Not even this merchant director thought solely about money, never bleeding or crying.
“Then quickly send someone or go yourself to talk to the archbishop. If the town soldiers end up harming Heir Hyland, then God will weep!”
Stefan stood up so fast from his chair he almost flew.
Then, he put such a distance between himself and Myuri that he practically slid with his back against the wall, and as he passed through the door, Col did not forget to call out and add—